People gonna pray and crawl
by wild wolf free17
Summary: Angel the Series drabbles, Lindsey-centric, AUish, a few Leverage crossovers
1. it comes undone

Each of these will stand alone. Each will have a separate rating and warnings.

* * *

><p><strong>Title<strong>: it comes undone

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; just for fun. Title from "Trip Around The Sun" by Jimmy Buffet and Martina McBride.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: spoilers for season two  
><strong>Parings<strong>: Angelus/Darla, Lindsey/Darla  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG13  
><strong>Wordcount<strong>: 300  
><strong>Point of view<strong>: third

* * *

><p>He is gentle in bed, her pretty little lawyer. She hadn't expected that, though she enjoys it, far more than she'd thought. Angelus was always violent, possessive, passionate. He took pleasure where he would, not always caring if his partner felt pleasure, as well.<p>

But her pretty little lawyer, oh, he is so sweet to her. Makes sure she feeds, has beautiful clothes and jewelry, has books and operas. He isn't endless smooth muscle and bloodbaths, but instead a whiskey-silk voice crooning her to sleep and whisperslick hands on her body, worshipping her as something beyond measure, something he's waited forever for.

Angelus prowled like a giant cat, never still. But her pretty little lawyer, he can sit for hours, contemplating a life he never tells her about, things he doesn't name. He is coiled tension, waiting for release, and she cannot give it to him.

And after she fails to bring back Angelus, after all her wiles and charms fall flat, after she watches the light in her pretty little lawyer's eyes dimming, she knows she cannot stay anymore.

She is a vampire, evil and amoral, one of the worst. She has killed many, tortured more, left behind families and dust. She has no regret, no mercy. And yet… she is not the creature she was, before Angel staked her for that Slayer. She is not the woman she was before the Master took her. She is not the woman she was, that mixture of both, before Drusilla drank of her. She is someone new, someone different—and she cares for him, her pretty little lawyer. Cares for him too much to stay.

She will not destroy another man. And if she remains with her pretty little lawyer, she will turn him, leach that light forever.

So she goes.


	2. wrung with wounds which kill not

**Title**: wrung with the wounds which kill not, but ne'er heal

**Fandom**: Leverage/Angel

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Byron

**Warnings**: anytime for Leverage; post-series for Angel

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG  
><strong>Wordcount<strong>:100

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage/Angel, Lindsey!Eliot/Any, (S)he's fairly sure Eliot's wrist is broken, but (s)he's seen him shake off much worse injuries and now he's just stood there, white as a sheet, staring at his hand.

* * *

><p>There is no way it's the worst injury Eliot has ever had. It took a moment for him to register the pain, and he was able to finish the job (of course), but now he's sitting in Hardison's get-away van, silent, staring at his hand.<p>

"Eliot?" Sophie asks softly. "Darling, what's wrong?"

"Nothin'," he mutters, visibly shaking _something _off. "Just..." He clenches his hand into a fist, straightens out all his fingers, and bends each one. He rubs at his wrist, says, "Light sprain," and then, "Bad memories, 's'all."

He doesn't say anything else for the rest of the ride.


	3. the gods who do not die

**Title**: the gods who do not die

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: pre-Lindsey/Angel

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 215

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: Angel, Angel/Lindsey, on my dying day, yours was the last face I wanted to see.

* * *

><p>Angel should have been the one to kill him, and they both know it. And when Lindsey opens his eyes after dying (again), it's to a Wolfram and Hart cleaning crew.<p>

But Lindsey is unpredictable. It's his best gift, why he should have never been hired, why he should have been culled out years before he left, why Angel shouldn't have given Lorne that order.

Why he should have seen that order coming.

Angel might be dead. Lindsey was, but he got better. And if Angel did die, then Lindsey needs to resurrect his ass and punish him for a multitude of sins that can't be placed on Angelus.

First, though, he needs to get rid of the cleaning crew. And it's easy, it's so damn easy, only Angel has ever been a challenge. And he doesn't even need his tattoos anymore.

Someone up there is looking out for him. He wonders what for.

Decides he doesn't care, and probably won't do it, whatever it is. His own agenda comes before, during, and after everything else.

And what he wants now is the Euro-trash vampire who ordered his death instead of manning up and killing Lindsey himself. What he does after he has Angel? Hasn't made up his mind yet.

It'll be bloody, though.


	4. long live the king

**Title**: long live the king

**Fandom**: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU for Supernatural; future!fic for BtVS and AtS

**Pairings**: none, really

**Rating**: PGish

**Wordcount**: 275

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Buffy/Supernatural, Drusilla on Sam, The stars told her about him

* * *

><p>The stars whisper so pretty about the king to be, the boy born for Lucifer's fire, to burn and to scorch, to raze all that is for what will come.<p>

_glorious glorious glorious is the king,_ she tells Daddy and her darling William.

_brightly burning, beautiful boy,_ she murmurs into Grandmum's skin as she returns her to the night.

He is young yet, still a child, unprepared for all that he will do and be. But his potential—

The stars sing and scream, and she dances dances dances, but her Spike won't whirl with her, and Daddy and Grandmum are gone, and she is alone, the pale princess in a tower of bone, waiting waiting waiting...

_glorious is the king,_ she shouts to the dark sky as Lucifer's light pierces the night, telling all who can read the signs that he is returned, walking the world again, wings spread wide to shelter all his children from the cruel sun.

_and the Son shall burn, and the Sword tarnish, weak and frail and bleeding so pretty,_ she tells the little doll in her arms, warmth filling her from the sweet veins. _bleeding so pretty like you._

And a single short year later, the stars whisper that the king to be has defeated Lucifer and taken his throne, that the Sword is in his hand and by his side, and that finally, _finally, the world is ours, to remake in our image, take it and do your will, meet your king._

And she does, the last of her bloodline, she seeks him out because he will need a seer, someone who can hear the song of the stars.


	5. bloodclaim

**Title**: bloodclaim

**Fandom**: "Angel the Series"/"Buffy the Vampire Slayer" crossover

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; just for fun.

**Warnings**: AU during "Angel" season 1 and "Buffy" season 4

**Pairings**: Angel(us)/Spike

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 300

**Point** **of** **view**: third

* * *

><p>Buffy couldn't(wouldn't) understand, he knows, but if one his children or grandchildren ever came to him and requested sanctuary, he would give it. Even from her.<p>

He is not Angelus and he is not Liam—he is Angel, the souled vampire, a breed apart from any other creature on Earth. He follows most of the vampire laws because they are written in his blood and his flesh—and protecting his line is one he must obey.

Penn did not claim sanctuary from his sire. If he had, Angel would have given it, but he would also have taught his childe which humans were off-limits, beyond touch, how to survive without killing.

Angel mourned when Penn died. He hoped his once-favorite childe found peace.

.

So when Spike comes to him, terrified and emaciated, Angel feels Angelus rising to the forefront. Spike babbles incoherently about scientists and labs and pain so great he just wants to die, and Angel opens his own vein. His grandchilde needs nourishment—pig's blood from his body will do for now. They'll get human later, when Spike is under control.

Angel cradles Spike against his chest, purrs him to sleep, carries his grandchilde to his bed and wraps around him. He'll offer what comfort he can, learn what the boy is running from—he hopes it's not Buffy, but if it is…

Angelus snarls. Even if it _is_ Buffy, Spike—sweet William—has claimed sanctuary, has come to him for aid.

Spike whimpers in sleep. Angel nuzzles him, kisses his neck. "Sleep, dear boy," he whispers. "Tomorrow, you'll get a real meal, childe, and we'll go from there."

He really hopes it's not Buffy. But even if it is—

Angelus demands vengeance. And Angel, holding his grandchilde, feeling him tremble and shudder, cannot do anything but agree.


	6. no longer an afterthought

**Title**: no longer an afterthought

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Richard Siken

**Warnings**: future!fic AU

**Pairings**: Spike/Lindsey

**Rating**: PG13

**Wordcount**: 110

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Lindsey/Spike, Spike drinking some of Lindsey's blood (established relationship).

* * *

><p>Spike doesn't ever really ask permission anymore. He'll just throw himself next to or on Lindsey and nuzzle his neck, letting his teeth slip in for a moment, and then he'll lick up the trickle of blood. It's like a kiss.<p>

And sometimes, he'll latch on whenever they fuck, and it's an explosion of pleasure, with just a hint of pain—the best thing Lindsey's ever felt.

The greatest thing of all, though, is when Lindsey whispers a spell into Spike's skin, when he draws a certain pattern of runes onto Spike's back, and then he pulls Spike into the sunlight and Spike drinks him in the heat.


	7. forever and a day

Title: forever and a day

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.

Warnings: takes place early season two

Pairings: mentions of Cordelia/Xander

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 190

* * *

><p>He was the first boy she ever truly thought of forever with, wondered if maybe he was the one. (He's still the only one she's thought of like that.) He was funny and clever and hot and so <em>so<em> nice - he treated her like the princess she was, because he _wanted_ to. Because he was just that guy.

She loved him. She thinks she still loves him. Maybe she'll always love him. She's grown up now, no longer the princess of Sunnydale High, no longer Queen C. She's no longer a hanger-on of the Slayer. She saves people in her own right, with Angel and Wesley and Gunn(she still misses Doyle, like she misses Xander. She'll always miss them both. They made her the woman she is).

She should call Xander. See how he is. (She still cries sometimes, remembering how it felt, to see him and Willow. But they were kids. She shouldn't have been so hard on him.)

When the current crisis is over, she'll call Xander. She misses his voice, his lips, how he laughed, how he held her.

Yes, she'll call him, first chance she gets.


	8. the best way of doing things

**Title**: the best way of doing things

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: takes place just after series finale

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 110

**Point of view**: third

**Prompts**: Angel/Lindsey, "Seriously? You couldn't have shot me yourself?"

* * *

><p>Honestly, Angel isn't all that surprised when he turns around to see Lindsey. There's a smirk twisting Lindsey's lips, a sword in one hand, and a gun in the other.<p>

"Hey, Angel," Lindsey says. "We've got a few things to discuss."

Angel backs up a step. He still hasn't fully healed from Wolfram and Hart's last stand, he's not sure who all survived, and now Lindsey—

"I made the right call," Angel tells him, sure of that, at least.

Lindsey's chuckle is bitter and his fingers tighten on the hilt of his sword. "No, you didn't." His smirk hardens into a cold smile. "You should'a shot me yourself."


	9. We belong together

**Title**: We belong together like the open seas and shores

**Fandom**: "Leverage"/"Angel the Series" crossover

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Daughtry.

**Warnings**: spoilers for Ats; AU for AtS season five

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 715

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Notes**: not in chronological order

* * *

><p><em>You gonna go after Wolfram and Hart?<em> Lindsey asks from the mirror.

And Eliot answers, _Someday_.

o0o

They'd been best friends, growing up, identical twins with dirt-poor parents, two older brothers and a sister four years after.

Only Eliot and their sister are still alive.

o0o

_It wasn't your fault, _Lindsey tells him when nightmares wake him up gasping. _I wanted out. You didn't chase me away. _

_I didn't chase after you, either, _Eliot says, and doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.

o0o

Lindsey got the brains and Eliot got the brawns—that's what their eldest brother used to say. Lindsey spent all his time studying, had the highest grades in their year all the way to graduation. Eliot got in daily fights and only learned when Lindsey made his brother quiz him.

Lindsey graduated at the top of their class, with grades perfect enough for Wolfram and Hart to come calling. Eliot barely graduated at all.

o0o

_I need to know you forgive me, _Lindsey whispers. _That's the only way I can move on._

Eliot doesn't say a thing.

o0o

They saw each other sporadically over the years, with random phone calls in-between. Lindsey was an up-and-coming lawyer, while Eliot floundered. And then Eliot fell into the underbelly of society and found his calling.

Lindsey had always been driven to be the best, to shine, to rise above all the rest. Eliot finally realized how that felt and he rose through the ranks swiftly, the jack of all trades in retrieving or assassinating. Lindsey once asked his brother where he was going; Eliot choked on a laugh and rumbled out, _Hell_.

o0o

_They're good people_, Lindsey says. _I'm glad you've fallen in with them_.

Eliot nods, but replies, _Not as good as you'da been_.

o0o

Lindsey never said goodbye. He said he had some loose ends to tie up in LA and he'd be back in three weeks.

Eliot had a job in Moscow. He was a world away when he heard Lindsey scream and then—nothing.

o0o

_Eliot_, Lindsey murmurs sometimes, _turn left_. Or _Not that way_. Or _Bad guy, duck!_ Before Lindsey died, Eliot had been a kick-ass fighter, but after? No one could get the drop on him.

He'd trade the reputation and prowess in less than a heartbeat to have his brother breathing again.

o0o

Eliot spent a month at his little sister's home in Oklahoma City. She was the only family he had left. Her twin daughters were six and little boy eight. He took a break from retrieving to look after them and feel like a real person again.

It didn't work. He only felt alive when he was breaking bones or making people bleed, and that didn't worry him as much as it should. So he kissed his sister and the kiddos goodbye and vanished back into the underbelly of society, never pausing or resting, searching for something that died in Los Angeles when he wasn't looking.

o0o

_You're gonna get yourself killed, _Lindsey yells in the middle of a brawl. He's been dead for three years and Eliot doesn't look over, just ducks a punch and kicks some poor bastard in the ribs.

_Fuck you_, Lindsey snarls. Eliot takes a hit in the face and keeps smiling.

o0o

After they had make-up sex years too late, Aimee said, "I heard about your twin. I'm sorry."

Eliot pretended to be asleep.

o0o

_Forgive me_, Lindsey begs. _El, come on. It's been four years. Let me go_.

_No_, Eliot says.

o0o

Lindsey's middle name had been Spencer. Growing up, his hair had always been a wild tangle until high-school, when he cut it to look more respectable.

They'd both loved horses. Never felt as free as on the back of a horse.

o0o

_Devereaux_ _suspects there's more to you than breaking_ _faces_, Lindsey whispers. _Hardison looked into your background. Ford's heard about you beyond what your file says. And Parker—man, she's twenty pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag._

_Don't worry 'bout me, Linny_, Eliot says. _The only person I trust is dead_.

o0o

Eliot was never a team player. He couldn't trust anyone—a character flaw, Dad said. Mom said it was smart.

Lindsey, though, didn't just play on a team. He led it.

o0o

_You gonna go after Wolfram and Hart?_ Lindsey asks from the mirror.

And Eliot answers, _Today_.


	10. end of the night

**Title**: end of the night  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Angel, Lindsey, Russell Winters, and Cordelia aren't mine. Just for fun. Title from "I Need A Hero" by Bonnie Tyler.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: AU for "You're Welcome"  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: smidge of Lindsey/OMC  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG13  
><strong>Wordcount<strong>: 520  
><strong>Point of view<strong>: third

* * *

><p>He's hated for so long he doesn't see a way out. Ever since Angel stormed into that board room and kicked Russell Winters out the window, Lindsey's despised him. Even when he asked the damned vampire for help, he couldn't stand Angel.<p>

Angel stepped in and became the Senior Partners' favorite son, their golden boy. Anything he did, they just looked at him and smiled.

And Lindsey couldn't stomach it, couldn't let himself stay in Angel's shadow after everything. So he left, traveled the world, learned from the best and taught himself things even the greatest wizards in the world could not comprehend.

Holland always said he had ambition to spare. Ambition and hate took him to the summit—and now they keep his wings spread as he soars straight into the abyss.

From the beginning, Angel underestimated him. Should have killed him, all those chances the stupid vampire had.

Too late now.

.

He'd had the plan in motion from when Angel cut off his hand. Back up ideas and half-cocked ideas mingled in his mind, all those weeks and months he was gone.

He kept tabs on Angel, the vampire with everything Lindsey'd ever wanted, even from before he knew he'd wanted it. Altered the plans whenever needed, changed things up a bit.

.

The tattoos hurt, a searing brand—necessary, so he didn't hesitate. Brother Theo asked if he were sure, right before the first needle pierced his skin, explained just what the cost would be.

Lindsey smiled up at Theo, raised himself to press a chaste kiss against the monk's lips. "I'm sure, brother," he drawled, and Theo smiled back.

.

Jecvar, a master swordsman, took Lindsey under his wing for a while. Shoved Lindsey into a pocket dimension and taught everything he knew—which was everything ever known about the blade.

For Lindsey, a handful of centuries passed. In the outside world, it was a hand-span of breaths.

"No matter who you fight now," Jecvar growled, "you will always win."

Lindsey bowed to him, an honor he'd never given anyone. Jecvar handed him a small knife with bared teeth and said, "Now have your vengeance on that scum"

.

It isn't that hard to walk into the mouth of hell and pick up the still-warm amulet now containing William the Bloody.

Everything's falling into place beautifully and Angel just became CEO of Wolfram and Hart.

That position should have been Lindsey's. Would have been, if Angel had never shown his face in LA.

.

He preps the failsafe; Angel will figure it out, will find the entrance, will make it past the zombies. He's fought worse and survived, after all.

Angel is a letdown after Jecvar, but that's to be expected. Cordelia tries every button and finally hits the right one; Lindsey had expected that, too. A heartbeat after she makes the correct choice, electricity sears through her blood, halting her heart, and she falls.

"Cordelia!" Angel howls, taking his mind off the fight.

Lindsey swings his sword.

And the blade slices through Angel's neck, his head arching away through the air. Lindsey stands tall and smiles.

He's finally won.


	11. give the devil his due

**Title**: give the devil his due

**Fandom**: Angel the Series/Leverage

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: mostly preseries

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 425

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Ats/Leverage, Lindsey, Eliot; fist fights and blood brothers.

* * *

><p>Eliot hung out with the punks while Lindsey studied, determined to get far enough away to no longer be one of the hick trailer-trash McDonald boys.<p>

Eliot was the trouble-maker, detention every week, barely passing (and even then, everyone knew it was only because of his brother; Lindsey knew it was just because school bored him even though he's plenty smart).

Most of the bullies left Lindsey alone, usually because of his brother, but also because he could talk rings around them until they didn't even remember what he'd done to annoy them in the first place. It helped, too, that while he didn't fight as much as Eliot, he _could_. A couple football players learned that their freshman year.

But then, their junior year, this new kid transferred in, some big-time jock who'd lead the football team to major victory. Problem was, he was dumber than a stump, and so Lindsey got tapped to tutor him.

Lindsey couldn't care less about football if he tried, and the jock didn't care about studying or raising his grades, but he needed to at least _pass_.

After three days, the jock just told Lindsey to take the tests for him, to do the homework for him, so that he got more time on the field.

The teachers wouldn't care, the jock said, and the bitch of it was, Lindsey knew that.

All the same, he refused.

(It wasn't so much his principles, just the jock's tone and attitude.)

And when the jock's grades sank even lower and he couldn't play the final game, so they lost... well, no one liked that, except Lindsey 'cause that was the bastard's due.

So the football team waited for Lindsey on the walk home, and a chill wind was blowing, and when the jock who refused to even _try_ lunged for him, Lindsey didn't stand there and take it.

His brother rushed up and they fought back-to-back, and it wasn't exactly a victory, or even a draw—

But some of those kids never played football again.

And years later, when Lindsey turned his back on Wolfram and Hart because he finally found principles and Eliot joined up with a group that did the right thing instead of what was easy, and Lindsey finally found his way home to his brother, it felt like when they stood in the middle of a pissed-off football team, them against the world.

Except, this time, the white hats wouldn't betray their allies at the final hour, and Eliot said, "'bout time you showed up, Linny."


	12. paint it on the walls

**Title**: paint it on the walls

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: spoilers for season 5

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 185

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Lindsey/author's choice, the first time is always the hardest

* * *

><p>It's his first actual, real, not induced by Wolfram and Hart machinations death, and it fucking sucks. Killed by the flunky. By a man—well, what the fuck ever—that he'd have once said might be his friend.<p>

If Lindsey had friends. Which he so clearly doesn't since Angel told Lorne to kill him and Lorne actually did. Why the fuck doesn't Lindsey get a shot at redemption?

But the failsafe is in place and Lindsey breathes, waking up after dying, more pissed than when he realized Angel had been given the LA branch of the company Lindsey very nearly sold his soul to.

He blinks, considering what to do now. Everyone will believe he's dead. If he burns the building down, not even Angel—should he survive—will think to look very hard. Lindsey could vanish, forget about his vengeance, ignore everything that should've been his.

Lindsey lifts a hand to his chest, letting his fingers rest on the dried blood.

Fuck that. He's worked too long and too hard, and if anyone is going to kill him for real, it's damned well gonna be Angel.


	13. never either found another

**Title**: never either found another

**Fandom**: Angel the Series/Leverage

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Coleridge

**Warnings**: AUish?

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG  
><strong>Wordcount<strong>: 220

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage, Eliot/(+)Hardison, "Who the hell is Lindsey McDonald?"

* * *

><p>Eliot's been unconscious in the hospital for three days. Parker's begun taking things from galleries and museums only to put them in another, Nate's been drunk for twenty-four hours now, and Sophie has convinced a dozen different men that she's a princess from a country that ceased to exist over two hundred years ago.<p>

And Alec has sat in Eliot's room, accessing the internet from his phone, and making sure that their cover stories hold. He's taken charge because Nate's practically shut down and Sophie is panicking and no one in their right mind would give Parker any power over life and death, and if anything goes wrong, Eliot will die. He barely survived the job going south. Alec needs to keep watch over not only his team, but the bad guys, too.

So far, Vikerson hasn't caught Eliot's scent. Neither he nor his goons saw Eliot after the fight, so with any luck, they think he's gone to ground somewhere. Not lying helpless in a hospital bed.

So Alec is alone in the room with a comatose Eliot when the guy with Eliot's face storms in, wearing Eliot's _pissed-off and about to share the rage_ expression.

Alec stares at him, mouth and eyes wide, and the guy _snarls_, "What the **fuck** did your team do to my brother?"


	14. Memory has left me with that name alone

Title: Memory has left me with that name alone

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Landor

Warnings: spoilers for both series

Pairings: canon

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 740

Point of view: third

Note: for mynorthwind; she wanted a BtVS isoulmate's name on hand fic

* * *

><p>Not everyone is born with a name on their hand – only the lucky ones.<p>

.

When William is ten, the letter _A_ appears. Until Drusilla finds him and makes him better, stronger, faster, _A_is the only letter on his hand.

He meets Angelus, the cruelest, most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and thinks he understands. Over the first decade of his new life, the _A_ fades; after Angelus leaves, a _D_ appears, darker than the _A_had ever been.

Spike still believes he understands.

.

Alexander LeValle Harris grows up hating his name. His hand is empty; not even bumping into the most beautiful girl in the world is enough to call up a letter. (For a few months, when he was fourteen, a part of him kept expecting a _J_, followed swiftly by _e_, two _s_', and another _e_. No dice. And then Jesse is gone, and he's glad no name ever appeared. Better to have never had than to lose.)

The _W_ appears after the Master dies. Willow suddenly gets tongue-tied and blushes anytime he looks at her, and it's weird. He's already lost Jesse; he doesn't want to lose Willow, too, and not for something as stupid as the possibility that the name will be hers. Really, what are the chances? There's, like, a thousand names that start with a _w_.

.

The _i_ is next. Cordelia mocks him whenever they make out, and Willow can't even look at him. Oz doesn't seem to care, though, even when the double _l_s show up over the span of a year.

All sorts of things happen – but the biggie is definitely lying to Buffy about Willow's spell, and blowing up the school, and making out with Willow.

Xander still doesn't believe that it's Willow's name on his hand, though. He loves her, but not like that. And he's glad when she realizes that, too, though he wishes they'd figured it out before almost killing Cordelia.

.

Spike knows that he should leave Sunnydale, especially after being chipped into uselessness. The Slayer is fun to annoy, but that's all he's doing at the moment. He's no more dangerous than a kitten, and he's really getting tired of being reminded of that. But something's keeping him there.

The _D_ is long gone from his hand when the _A_shows back up. He thinks it might be Anya for just a moment, right after Buffy stares at him for fucking her.

But he feels nothing for Anya. Or Drusilla, or Buffy, or even Angel(us) anymore. He feels like the dust the sun will turn him into, and as he watches Buffy walk away, he wonders if tomorrow he should greet the sun.

He doesn't. He sits in his crypt and watches an _l_crawl its way onto his hand.

.

Xander has always liked Spike more than he liked Angel. Of course, he likes root canals and every STD in the world more than he likes Angel, so. Not saying much.

Spike was happily evil and didn't try to hide it or apologize for it. Better than Angel's brooding attempts at being a hero.

And Spike was a better housemate than Xander's parents, so there's that, too.

But Spike's a vampire. And Xander… Xander staked his best friend (on accident, but he was _holding the stake_ and _Jesse turned to dust_, and if Jesse had to die for something that wasn't his fault (and, _yes,_ Jesse was _already_ dead, Xander _knows that_) then every vampire in the world has to die.

But Buffy and Giles say Spike is useful and the good guys don't kill helpless things.

Xander wishes he could say fuck that, but he holds his tongue and waits to be proven right.

.

After Sunnydale, _William_is spelled out on Xander's hand. He waits almost three years, looking at every Will, Bill, Willy, Billy, and William twice, but none of them ever feel right.

After three years, he stops waiting. He'll either find William or he won't. That's no reason to stop living. Most of the world doesn't have a name on their hand, anyway. He's lucky to know his soulmate's name.

.

After LA, Spike wakes up. He has never been so astonished in his (un)life.

_Alexander_ is written on his hand, large as life, and just as understandable. He stares at his palm, traces the letters with his finger, and then he realizes he's _laying in sunlight_.

"Oh," he whispers, and realizes he's breathing.


	15. brothers and angels

**Title**: brothers and angels

**Fandom**: Leverage/Angel the Series

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: spoilers for end of Angel the Series

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: R

**Wordcount**: 160

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Leverage/AtS, Eliot & Angel, "You killed my brother, you son-of-a-bitch."

* * *

><p>When he takes Angel down, the vampire doesn't see it coming. The holy water burns and the four stakes circle his heart, pinning him to the wall.<p>

He looks up, gasping and moaning, to see—"Lindsey?"

"No," the man says, and that's right: he doesn't smell like Lindsey. Well, he does, but not exactly. He holds another stake, with three more strapped to his waist. Almost too quick for Angel to see, two stakes pierce both his palms, and he screams.

"You killed my brother," Lindsey's twin says. "You'll pay for that."

Angel survived Wolfram and Hart's final charge, but this... "I didn't know Lindsey had a brother," Angel mutters, trying to formulate a plan, but another stake is driven into him, through his gut, and all reason flees.

"He still does," Lindsey's brother says, and Lindsey flickers into being next to him, gone after a moment.

Angel closes his eyes and Lindsey's brother pours holy water down his throat.


	16. I have come with a light

**Title**: I have come with a light  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Mindy Smith's "Come to Jesus."  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: spoilers for everything  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: shades of Angel/Buffy and Angel/Cordelia. If you look at this in just the right way, also shades of Angel/Lindsey  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Wordcount<strong>: 375  
><strong>Point of view<strong>: third

* * *

><p><em>You killed me.<em>

The words echo in his head, won't leave. For hours, days, months—years—they haven't left. Out of everyone he's killed, all the people who could haunt him—why'd it have to be _him_?

_You're the proof, I suppose, that a man can't change. Not that **you're** a man. _

After the fight, after he'd slayed the dragon and only three of them remained, they'd all gone their separate ways. Gone to ground, licked their wounds, mourned. Waited for something, the fallout of such a terrible battle.

And nothing happened. All the bodies had been hidden; the Senior Partners weren't ready to be revealed, and everything was brushed under the carpet.

_It's all useless, you know. You think you make a difference, and you don't. How sad. _

He can't escape the memories, no matter how deeply he burrows into fighting. He still can't give up on the quest, trying to buy his way into Heaven, into humanity.

_It's not so great, being human. Trust me. _

He goes about his life, always in the moonlight; he's back to square one, back to stealing blood from the butcher, back to who he was before the summoning to that hole-in-the-ground.

And the words echo, in that voice, that tone—silk and fire and sex—and he just can't escape.

_You kill everyone you love, don't you? First her, that Slayer, and then Cordelia. And don't forget that son of yours, Connor? You didn't just kill him, you completely erased him. And me. Look what I am now, 'cause'a **you**. _

He used to be the hero, didn't he? He can remember—he fought the darkness, he saved people, he did _good_.

_You only ever fought for yourself. But guess what? Heaven isn't' something you can buy your way into. If it was, I'd be there, and I'm not. _

He clings to the memories of the battles at night, when the scent of blood calls him, trying to seduce him back into the darkness. He clings to his beloved Slayer, to his seer, to those friends he had—and it's just not—

_I'm not in Heaven. And guess what? **You** won't be, either. _

_I'm waiting for you, Angel. _

_I'm waiting. _

_And I've got eternity to make you pay. _

—enough.


	17. pretty as a picture

**Title**: pretty as a picture

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: spoilers for the end of Angel the Series

**Pairings**: none stated

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 240

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Prompt**: Angel/(Lindsey), sometimes he wishes he'd given him the chance to prove himself

* * *

><p>After, he goes underground. Time to lick wounds and heal, plan a second attack.<p>

Of course the first one failed. A dying human, two vampires, and a bound god—not much of a chance, really.

Gunn died saving Spike, and Spike died for Angel, and Illyria just kept moving, but finally, even she fell.

He's sure she's alive somewhere. An Old One, after all, has already survived death once. She's probably trying to raise an army, take back her throne in a world that has no place for her, not anymore.

It doesn't matter. He hasn't even tried to contact Buffy or the new Watchers' council. Let everyone think he's dead.

He should be dead. That's what Lindsey keeps telling him, day in and day out, smirking at him from the doorway or the corner or the mirror. Lindsey and that damnable smirk, _I know something you don't, ain't that grand?_ Those blue eyes that always knew something he didn't, fucking lawyer.

Why is his reflection Lindsey? He doesn't _have_ a reflection—vampire, _hello_? Only souled vampire in existence, though he sure didn't act like it in those last few months, all part of the plan. Lure everybody in, trick them, trap them, take down Wolfram and Hart.

_And how'd that work out?_ Lindsey asks, strumming a guitar on the couch. _Maybe I could'a turned the tide in your favor, __**friend**__. Think'a that?_

That's all Angel's thought about.


	18. Pretty Little Moths

**Title**: Pretty Little Moths

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; just for fun.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: spoilers for season two  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: Angel/Darla, implied Angel/Lindsey  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Wordcount<strong>: 100  
><strong>Point of view<strong>: third

* * *

><p>She isn't surprised to learn that the eager lawyer lusts after Angel—her darling boy always did call to the pretty ones. Her, Dru, William, even that girl-child Slayer. Like vampires to a bloodbath, like fragile little insects to a roaring fire, his face seduces: the greatest seduction.<p>

She remembers the first time she saw him, her darling boy—out drunk, carousing, looking for a good time to spite his father. And oh, she gave him that, plus much more. She gave him an eternity of blood.

And this lawyer, he's just the next in a long, never-ending line.

Lost.


	19. when death comes

Title: when death comes with its hood we won't be polite

Fandom: Angel the Series/Leverage

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton

Warnings: takes place during AtS finale and pre-Leverage

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 90

Point of view: third

Prompt: Angel, Lindsey/author's choice, trust.

* * *

><p>When it all comes down to it, all you can count on is family. Lindsey's choking on blood, watching Lorne walk out the door, dying by Angel's order and Lorne's regret.<p>

Thank fuck for failsafes, and the fact that Lindsey only trusts one person (being?) in any realm.

Gotta kill 'em both at the same time to kill either, and he feels his brother's rage in the back of his mind, sending strength and love and determination.

_I'll be there by morning,_ his brother swears, and Lindsey lets his eyes close.


End file.
